


Twits and Crits: The Novel

by PixylOwl



Series: Twits and Crits [1]
Category: Dungeons and Dragons - Fandom, Funhaus RPF, Twits and Crits - Fandom
Genre: Adventure, Comedy, Dungeons and Dragons, Fantasy, Funhaus - Freeform, Multi, Novelization, Roleplay, Spoilers for Season 1, Twits and Crits, Web Series, Writing practice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 10:17:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11056884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixylOwl/pseuds/PixylOwl
Summary: A group of ragtag adventurers set out on a journey that brings along surprises, tragedy and above all, friendship.





	Twits and Crits: The Novel

**Author's Note:**

> After watching the amazing roleplaying of Funhaus, I couldn't help but how well this could be turned into an actual fantasy novel. This is also totally just a way for me to practice writing, don't expect anything original lol. All humour soley deriving from Funhaus! Subscribe to RT First to watch Twits and Crits yourself, it's worth it.

The mythical adventures of a group of outcasts, starring:

Name: Myriaddis O’Probbels  
Class: Level 1 Paladin Mountain Dwarf  
Description: A soft spoken folk hero of dwarven yore. Average in every sense of the word, perhaps this journey shall help him stand out amongst his peers.

Name: Racsan Bartooth  
Class: Level 1 Human Fighter  
Description: A human of noble birth. Tired of his noble upbringing, he left his life of luxury behind in search of true adventure.

Name: Dirik Benslorde  
Class: Level 1 Human Barbarian  
Description: An unusual class of human, Dirik sports beautiful locks of orange hair, a surprising pair of ears and a tail. Despite his appearance, Dirik maintains his human ancestry.

Name: Shattercock  
Class: Level 1 Tiefling Sorcerer  
Description: Originally a street urchin, Shattercock has set out in search of something better. Though mostly kind-hearted, Shattercock has a bit of a mischievous side.

Name: Grimo “G-Spot” Rudefellow  
Class: Level 1 Lightfoot Halfling Rogue  
Description: Grimo was cast out of his lifetime home in the Jire, under suspicious circumstances. Will his coming adventures earn him a chance at redemption? Despite his tragic past, Grimo gives off an air of rebellion and is a true trickster.

Name: Decker Rootkit  
Class: Level 1 Human Wizard  
Description: Having no past to speak of, Decker seems to be from a different realm entirely. He is extremely dismissive and condescending of his peers and is liked by few. Never being seen without his self-proclaimed “cool” glasses he also carries around a suspicious tome that seems to be powered by an otherworldly force that he refers to as “electricity”.

* * *

An old crumbling watchtower sits alone and decrepit in Southern Gael. Now a holdfast for weary travellers and soldiers alike. A recently built fifteen foot wall surrounds the tower on three sides, defended by a scattering of ramparts. In a nearby outpost, soldiers and peasants alike busy themselves with menial tasks as two dozen men on horses prepare themselves for departure. Though the sky is gray, all is at peace. On the second level of the tower in a small room, four of our heroes sit alone: Myriaddis, Dirik, Shattercock and Grimo. Grimo pulls out a pack of cigarettes, lights one and begins to smoke. A tall, slim wood elf with hair flowing down his back enters the room. The group recognises him as Captain Stiller. He has called them all together for reasons unbeknown to anyone. Racsan and Decker follow close behind him.

When they take a seat, Stiller begins, “Thank you all for coming this afternoon, Now that you’ve all arrived, I’ll summon the Major so that we can begin”. Excusing himself for a moment, the Captain exits, leaving our heroes alone. Immediately they begin whispering amongst themselves. Shattercock, having taken notice of Grimo’s nasty habit tells him, “You know…smoking is bad for your health.”

“You would know, you’ve got a nice pair of lungs on you!” Grimo quips, sitting back in his chair and taking another drag. Expecting uproarious laughter, he is surprised at Shattercock’s confused face. Dirik takes the liberty of explaining the joke and Grimo rolls his eyes, of course these foreigners wouldn’t understand his Jire lingo. The brawny human, Rascan, Grimo thinks, asks him for a cigarette.

“What you think I just gots cigarettes to hand out to bafooks like you?” Grimo gripes, taking another drag.

“What a strange accent, which part of the Jire do you come from?” Roxanne asks instead.

“How do you know where I’m from?” Grimo returns, suspicion rising up from within.

“It says so on your jacket…”

“Oh…so it does…” Grimo turns to show off his leather jacket _Property of the Jire_ proudly displayed on its back and shirt sleeve.

Dirik, annoyed by the back and forth interrupts them, “Can someone please just tell me why we’re here?”

As if to answer his question, a huge man walks into the room, followed by Captain Stiller. He is a massive six and a half feet and covered head-to-toe in plate mail. As he walks around the room, the grey in his hair becomes more apparent as he sizes the group up. It is obvious by his demeanour and appearance that this man has lived to see many battles. Stiller introduces him as Major Argruth.

“So this is it huh?” Argruth asks, turning to address Stiller, “I suppose it will serve.”

He turns to address the adventurers, “Gentlem—“

“Ladies!” Shattercock interrupts.

With a dismissive glance, Argruth turns away from her, ”Tiefling…creature and gentlemen, there’s been a prison break at Crasmere. We have dispatched forces in all directions in attempt to catch the escaped convicts. As a result, we are seriously undermanned along our frontier. This is why you’ve all been called here today. We have little time before these vermin escape into our peaceful land. Two orcs known as the Moon Dog Brothers are among the escapees. This is a truly despicable pair.”

Dirik’s ears perk up as he listens intently. Racsan comments about them to which Dirik replies, “What? I’m just listening.”

Ignoring the banter, Argruth continues with his speech, “The Moon Dogs, stole, pillaged, raped, killed and burned their way through the Eleven Years War. They were the ones solely responsible for the massacre at St. Clive’s monastery. We have word that they were last spotted travelling east towards the border. Your task is to track them down and apprehend or,” Argruth gives them a grave look, “eliminate them if you must, along with any Crasmere escapees. They are extremely dangerous and have a knack for attracting followers rapidly. It is possible they may be too much for you to handle alone. If this is so, please seek out the assistance of General Imandown. His forces were last seen patrolling along the Eastern border of Charnock. We have been unable to get in contact with him however we are confident he will assist you in this matter.

“I myself will be departing within the hour, I am taking riders southwest to Dalla Galle to prevent the escapees from reaching the port city. Captain Stiller has told me he has come to separate agreements with each of you on how you will all be compensated. Good luck and happy hunting,” with a nod of his head, Major Argruth turns and exits the room.

Decker immediately slams his laptop closed, “Capture the orcs! Got it let’s go!”

Dirik nods in agreement and rise to leave the room, “just point me in the direction of whoever needs to be slaughtered and I’ll do it.” The sudden noise of the chair scrapping across the floor seems to awaken Racsan who was evidently fast asleep during the debriefing. Shattercock addresses Dirik, “Why do we have to kill these men? Maybe we can negotiate with them.”

“Orcs!? Wait…w—we’re fighti—what? Orcs?” Racsan interrupts.

“Yes…looks like we’ve been hired to do that…”

Stiller pipes in, “Yes so the Moon Dog Brothers: Gren and Gron. Gren is missing his left eye and has a limp whereas Gron has cropped ears and a scar spanning across his nose. Both have a grayish hue to their skin. I’ve given you all a map with a projected route of their path. Do any of you have any questions?”

Ignoring Stiller, Dirik turns to Myriaddis, “What are we doing here?”

“Getting paid for a good cause.”

“Can we just get it over with? You said this would be quick. I didn’t know this was going to be a whole thing, I gotta sit around all day listening to thi—“

“Well I didn’t expect all these speeches.”

Racsan addresses the group, “In my experience in a group of friends…”

“We’re not friends” Shattercock interjects.

“In a group of people who will soon _become_ friends, it is customary to elect a leader—that isn’t me!”

Silence follows, it appears no one wants to take of the mantle of leadership. Grimo doesn’t really see the point in electing a leader, he isn’t going to listen to authority anyways. Dirik nominates Myriaddis as the leader, to the agreement of the group. Well, all except Grimo, “Why should we listen ta you, you kinda looks like a Moon Dog brother ya’self, ya goofy bafook!”

“Shut up or I’ll cut your head off, Halfling” Dirik booms, effectively ending Grimo’s protests. Racsan suggests putting the leadership to a vote. Grimo, somehow swayed by Dirik’s threats votes in favour of Myriaddis. Though Decker decides not to vote at all, the group agrees to make Myriaddis their leader.

After they drink to his health (Dirik messily slurping up his ale), they decide to head down to Quartermaster Davon. Evidently, the only things he sells are rusty daggers. Unimpressed by the Quartermaster’s stock, Dirik speaks up, “I was told we were going to receive some sort of compensation for this task,” and hands him a letter from Stiller to which Davon replies by handing out everyone's cuts.

“You got anything in that little bag o’ yours for me? A couple extra arrows? Pack o’ cigs?” Grimo questions Davon.

“Yeah sure, here two packs of cigarettes and fifteen arrows," Davon replies, tossing them over before pulling out a large wooden box and explaining its contents, “Okay so we’ve got in here: fifteen weeks of rations, a horn and four potions of healing,” he hands it to Decker, “you are in charge of its contents.”

“Sure, I’ll hold onto it,” Decker places the box into his messenger bag.

Grimo starts another confrontation, “Hold on! Why we letting this guy hang on to all our stuff?”

Racsan: “He’s a good guy.”

“But you just met him!”

“No, we have a sordid past together.”

“We should give it to the leader! Give it to Mirri!” Shattercock chimes in.

“No we shouldn’t give it to the leader!” Racsan argues, “You’re not supposed to give it to the lead—“

“You guys are wasting time, none of this matters,” Decker monotones, “Let’s complete our order, get our gold and move on.”

“Do you guys trust him to keep all our supplies?” Myriaddis finally chimes in.

Shattercock and Grimo whisper amongst themselves, “I don’t trust him.” “Nah, me neither.”

“It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t looks like he can run very far anyways.” Dirik smirks, “Whatever gets us paid, whatever gets us moving quicker is fine. We’re wasting time,” Dirik pulls out his map, “Let’s go!”

Together, the group of travellers leave the holdfast. There is a tiny camp outside with a few travelling merchants. A scantily dressed women, sashays by. Dirik immediately begins sniffing after her as if he can smell her in heat. Racsan nudges him, “You wanna go after her?”

Dirik shakes his head as if to clear his mind, “No of course not! I want to hurry up and get on with the mission!”

Grimo, eager as always to get in on the action chimes in, “Yeah I agree we should get goin’.”

“If this thing doesn’t shut up I’m gonna cut his head off. I swear, give it a day.”

“Can somebody neuter this creepo?” Grimo rejoinders.

Despite Grimo and Dirik’s constant back and forth, the group decides on a plan of action: to head towards Jai Yen village through Lo Bouton Hills. They begin their march, Myriaddis proudly in the front with Grimo nipping at their heels, begging them to slow down. Racsan decides to start up a chant which Grimo happily leads:

_“Run through the hills /_ _Run for our lives / R_ _un through the hills / R_ _un for our lives / W_ _e march through the mountains of Lo Bout—“_ Dirik lets out a howl, shocking everyone into silence for the rest of the trip. After travelling for twelve hours, the grass of the plains has given way to rolling hills, the ground rising to bring them closer to the sky which has gone from a murky grey to a brilliant blue. The sun beats down on Myriaddis as he walks, suddenly he hears a noise from beyond.

“Halt,” He commands, the rest of the party stops abruptly, causing Grimo to walk into Decker and fall back. Before he can recover, he sees two great snarling wolves appear from the hillside. Dirik immediately snarls back at them, ready for action.

“Finally a fight! This is what I’ve been waiting for!” Shattercock yells excitedly.

“Youse a feisty broad, I like ya style” Grimo remarks. Shattercock turns to him, “Thank you Grimo, I like your style too.”

Grimo peers up at the tall woman leaning over him, truly noticing her beauty for the first time. Her face, barely visible over the mountains of her breasts, gazing down on him with a smile firmly planted on her lips. A smile that said she knew what she did to him and everyone around her, male or female, and she was willing to use it against him. Grimo can’t reply, he stays gazing, transfixed by her buxom breasts, her lilac skin, her wide hips and long legs.

The tension is broken as Dirik begins to pant heavily, staring at the approaching wolves. He moves to crouch behind a rock as Myriaddis runs up and lets out a yell in an attempt to scare them away. It is ineffective and serves only to draw the ire of both wolves as they leap onto him, trying to break through his plate mail. Grimo is reminded of the horn in Decker’s messenger bag, perhaps he can use it to scare away the wolves. He runs up to Decker in an attempt to rifle through his belongings, Decker slaps his hand away but Grimo is persistent. Still, Decker manages to hold him off. Grimo abandons his efforts, his speciality is more stealth based anyways, he thinks, moving into position behind a rock. He lights a smoke, considering his options. Decker, unperturbed by the Halfling's sorry attempts at combat moves forward and casts a bolt of fire at one of the wolves. At the same time Racsan throws his javelin, both wiz past the wolves, colliding in the air and falling to the ground, harmless. Myriaddis is still desperately trying to fend off both wolves, Shattercock finally comes to his aid, yelling the first thing to come to her mind: “ **I love Grimo!”** One of the wolves backs off, however Shattercock’s thaumaturgy seems to be more effective on Grimo than her attackers. Grimo's smoke falls from his mouth and he fumbles with it as it falls down his chest, burning a hole in his shirt, “Uh, this is un—unexpected, what could she have meant by that?”

Taking advantage of Shattercock’s distraction, Myriaddis strikes the now singular attacking wolf with his mace as Dirik finally jumps out from his position behind the rock and cracks his whip at the distracted wolf, he misses and the wolf takes a swipe at him, just grazing him but doing little damage. Dirik seems unaffected by the attack and continues cracking his whip, attempting to scare the wolf into submission. Myriaddis’ wolf is dazed by the blow to its head and misses when he attempts to bite back. Decker casts prestidigitation, causing great cones of bright light to spring up between Myriaddis and the wolf. The light shoots outwards, away from the main battlefield. The wolf follows the mysterious lights, trying fruitlessly to pounce on them.

Meanwhile, Racsan takes a knee and prays to his father’s old gods, “Please Gods, help me kill this wolf. Help me save my new friends and protect Mirri and Dirik.”

The gods seem to be listening, “ **For father**!” he yells as he swings his great axe up, decapitating the wolf in one fell swoop. He immediately takes a knee, sending a quick prayer of thanks to his gods. He then takes the decapitated head and places it upon his helm, both a trophy and a warning for the other combatants. Shattercock casts acid splash on the lone wolf that Dirik is struggling with. Distracted by his whip, the wolf is hit directly. It howls in pain as the acid melts its flesh off and it struggles to stay upright. Acid manages to splash onto Dirik's shoulder as well. As it burns through his armour and flesh, he lets out a maniacal laugh. Enraged by his failure in combat and the agonising burn of the acid, he reaches out, viciously grabbing the wolf by its scruff and pressing it face down into the dirt, “ **Run away or die!** ” he screams.

Emboldened by Dirik and Racsan’s attacks, Myriaddis runs over to the pinned wolf, lifting his mace over his head. He slams it down in one long arc, however it misses entirely, instead landing with a resounding crack on Dirik’s foot. Dirik lets out an ear-splitting howl that seems to attract more wolves who pop out from seemingly nowhere. Seeing the wolves appear and with the rush of battle strumming through his veins Racsan yells, “Party on!” Decker, rolling his eyes at the exuberance of his comrade, fires another bolt at the furthest wolf, hitting him. Racsan follows through with a huge swiping arc of his great axe, sending the head of the burnt wolf soaring upwards into the sky. The remaining wolves are hit by Shattercock's magic missile

Dirik, moaning in agony from his broken foot, releases the wolf and grabs for his scimitar, striking the wolf but failing to kill it. Myriaddis tries to bludgeon the wolf with his mace as it escapes from Dirik’s grasp. However, the wolf just barely dodges the blow of the weapon. He lets out a howl, summoning two more allies. Dirik, still in a rage, pulls out the hand axe strapped to his back and swings at the wolf, clouded by anger, he misses.  Another wolf takes this opportunity to lunge for Shattercock. Grimo decides that it is time to make his presence known. He sneaks out from his hiding place and makes a lunge for the wolf. He stabs it repeatedly until it collapses, dead. Grimo puts out his dwindling cigarette on the corpse before turning to Shattercock and winking.

Shattercock runs up to embrace him, “My hero!” she cries in her beautiful lilting voice and Grimo is smothered by her breasts. It’s for the best that he is as Grimo can feel a blush creeping up on his cheeks and his pants suddenly feel so much more restrictive. As Shattercock pulls away, Grimo notices movement from the bushes. Grimo groans, readying himself for even more wolves to show up. Instead, an old mountain man and a plucky young girl appear. Immediately both man and girl pull out their bows and fire into the crowd. The girl’s arrow hits the closest wolf while the man’s soars ever higher, hitting another wolf further back. Decker takes this chance to hit one of the stricken wolves with another fire bolt. The wolf collapses, barely hanging onto life. With two wolves on their last legs, Racsan lets out a sign. He thought this journey would be more of a challenge. A single swing of his great axe cuts the strongest wolf in two, painting Racsan in its blood. Shattercock, though confused by the newcomers does not take their appearance for granted and immediately fires off another magic missile. It hits all three of its targets, seriously wounding two and instantly killing the earlier victim of Shattercock’s acid attack.

Myriaddis, desperate at a chance for redemption after his bumbling inadequacies, drops his mace and shield in favour of a long sword. Aiming for the singed wolf, he leaps into the air, slamming his sword straight through the wolf’s midsection and firmly into the ground. Pleased with himself, he sinks to the ground beside the dying wolf and whispers, “Gotcha.” Unfortunately, yet another wolf appears from the bushes. The new arrival, seeing Racsan dripping in wolf’s blood, with its fallen brethren sitting atop his helm, immediately aims and bites him firmly on his ass. Racsan struggles, looking around for aid. He sees Decker poking vigorously at his mysterious tome but it doesn’t appear to be doing anything. Grimo is the one to come to Racsan’s rescue. He immediately pulls out his short bow and lights a cigarette, carefully placing it on the tip of an arrow. Taking aim, he sends it shooting across the field and into the heart of the wolf, making short work of Racsan’s enemy.

The two strangers pull out their weapons, an axe for the man and a dagger for the girl, and begin attacking the last wolf. Racsan joins in, striking the wolf with his great axe. The wolf’s life is finally forfeit as Shattercock casts acid splash one last time. The battlefield is silent as the fighters wait with bated breath, preparing for more wolves to appear. Racsan, unbothered by the threat of more wolves, takes another decapitated head and places it on top of his previous one. Shattercock takes a single tooth with the intention to fashion it into a necklace. Finally, the mountain man speaks up, “Thank you, strange creatures, for helping us defeat these wolves!”

Grimo takes a drag from his cigarette, “Who da bafuck are you?”

“I am Aeol, strange creature, and this is my daughter Bon,” he indicates towards the young girl, “We’re grateful for your assistance today but it grows ever darker and my home is only an hours trek away. Please, I’d be happy to shelter you for the night, if, in the morning, you help us fight some more wolves.”

Racsan gestures towards Myriaddis, “I’m tired, I don’t want to fight any thing, let’s just leave it to our leader.”

“I think we’re done fighting wolves. You _were_ the ones who led them to us in the first place…so…no thank you.”

Grimo begins to voice his agreement but is interrupted by Dirik, “Maybe if we agree to sleep in the barn _behind_ your place, we won’t have to hunt for more wolves tomorrow.”

“That’s where you were going to sleep anyways…hmm, no matter, perhaps I can convince you tomorrow morning,” Aeol begins moving around the battlefield, taking trinkets from each fallen wolf.

“Yeah good idea! Let’s talk about it in the morning,” covering his mouth and turning towards Myriaddis, Dirik whispers, “Let’s leave early.”

Aeol finishes his looting, “My daughter and I will be departing soon. Please, come with us.”

Aeol and Bon set off towards their home; Dirik begins to follow after them, “I guess we can give it a look.”

“I’d like a rest, my head is heavy for some reason,” Racsan assents, followed by Decker, Shattercock and Myriaddis.

“Grimo’ll check it out but he ain’t makin’ no promises,” Grimo mutters, sulking behind. With Mirri in the front, the group begins the trip to Aeol's barn. Grimo lights a cigarette, Shattercock fixes her hair, Racsan and Dirik discuss the highlights of the battle and Decker follows quietly, gazing transfixed at his tome. The sun begins to set on Southern Gael, ending the first day of our heroes' adventure.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Let me know! I've never actually played Dungeon and Dragons so I tried my best with place/character names but they may be wrong. Feel free to message me with any corrections.
> 
> I probably won't update this regularly, just when I'm bored and not interested in coming up with original content.


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